Celluloid Dreams
by bushlaboo
Summary: Collection of movie inspired Arrow AU drabbles. Each chapter will be a inspired by a different movie. Or could be accurately subtitled: Marian is Lazy. Sorry, not sorry.
1. Little Shop of Horrors

_Little Shop of Horrors_

It had been an accident. _Sort of_.

She had gone to Helena's office with ill intent and a Saturday night special in her purse. Felicity had justified it to herself of course with the fact that Helena Bertinelli was not a nice person and that no one, except perhaps the masochist who'd kept begging for more pain over the sound of the dental drill, would truly miss her.

An abuser, a user – heartless and cold all but sang through her mind as she shifted uncomfortably in the waiting room chair. The harsh, brittle characteristics of Helena's personality were evident in the extreme black and white décor of her dental office space which did little to make patients feel welcomed or comfortable. During her arduous wait the other patient had fled with her child as screams rang out.

When Helena had physically kicked the patient begging for more pain out into the waiting room she had flinched, her hand gripping her seat and even though she'd been the only one left waiting, Felicity had silently prayed that she wouldn't be called in next. Not because planned to go into the office and kill Helena, but because she realized that she could not follow through on her ludicrous plan – not to save herself, not even to save Oliver. And she certainly had not wanted to sit through the agony of an unnecessary appointment with Helena Bertinelli, D.M.D. The woman's enjoyment of inflicting needless pain on others was something she did not want to experience firsthand.

But she'd been so tired. Drained, literally, from days of feeding Oliver II – the astounding, never-before -seen plant that was saving Mr. Merlyn's florist shop, keeping her and Oliver employed and him in her life – her own blood because that was the only thing that kept it healthy. Finding its carnivorous tendencies had truly been a coincidence. She'd pricked herself on a thorn and the odd little plant had puckered its lip like petals at her. How it had sensed the presence of blood was a mystery, but since everything else she had tried: sunshine, diverse dirt mixtures, plant food, different ph. levels of water, mineral supplements had not worked, she had been desperate enough to give the drooping plant her own blood.

Merlyn's Skid Row Florists had been flailing until Felicity had found Oliver II after a solar eclipse a few weeks back while shopping at a pop-up market. Displaying the new variety of plant had brought them notoriety and much needed business, meaning that she not only got to keep her job, but her home in the basement of the building. To maintain her status quo she needed Oliver II healthy and attracting customers, so she kept feeding it from her own vein and the plant started to grow exponentially, strong and uniquely beautiful.

It was undoubtedly the blood loss, but Felicity actually thought that Oliver II had begun talking to her. Pleading with her to feed him more, but her tap had been dry, so to speak. It was then that she'd seen Helena berating and hitting Oliver – sweet, wonderful Oliver who deserved so much more than to be taken advantage of by such a cruel individual – she had never understood why he accepted Helena's mistreatment, but there was finally something she could do about it.

Or so Oliver II seemed to imply.

She'd planned on killing Helena, freeing Oliver from her misery and ensuring their livelihoods but Felicity found herself incapable of crossing that line and trapped in Helena's dental chair while the brunette sucked in copious amounts of nitrous oxide. Too much gas. She had tried to stop its outpouring but she'd been too late to save the dominating dentist. Helena poisoned herself and it had seemed somehow fitting that she had died laughing maliciously, intent on doing harm to another and only managing to hurt herself.

Felicity had felt sick feeding the other woman to Oliver II, had nearly gagged too many times that she lost count as the plant slurped her down. "Plant food," she had whispered under her breath desperate to believe that the cooling flesh was merely just that and not a human being who'd been alive only hours before. She had certainly promised herself that it was a one-time thing.

Never again, she'd vowed to herself as she threw out the remnants of Helena's clothing. Not even if Mr. Merlyn yelled at her about Oliver II wilting. Not if she stood to lose her job and her home. Not even if meant losing Oliver from her life.

But Mr. Merlyn had seen and the man who had been the only father-like figure in her life, who had taken her in and given her the little basement room and job, was now threatening her. Telling her that if she didn't handover Oliver II and disappear that he'd turn her into the police. It was her greatest nightmare come to life … losing everything.

Behind them, Oliver II's leaves curled and stretched some as if he was trying to reach out and pull Mr. Merlyn towards him.

If she could just maneuver him back a little bit her problem would be solved. Swallowed up by her murderous plant … it was that thought that chilled her, stopping Felicity in her tracks. Just the night before she promised never, for no reason ever, to allow Oliver II to consume another human being.

As awful as Mr. Merlyn turn out to be he wasn't conveniently deceased, he was very much alive and if she put him in Oliver II's path he would be dead. _Because of her_. And she wouldn't put it past the man to keep feeding the plant to ensure his business stayed open.

She couldn't allow that to happen. Felicity wasn't certain if he'd be open to reason. He never had been when she tried to talk to him about a raise, but on the dangers of Oliver II she would be firm.

Her decision and wherewithal came too late. Felicity wasn't certain if Mr. Merlyn had stepped back or if Oliver II had managed to grow or strain just enough to clasp hold of him, but suddenly he was being yanked back into the plant's sharply lined mouth. Leaving her to hear the crunch of bones and Mr. Merlyn's surprisingly high shrieks as Oliver II ate him up.


	2. Stardust

_**Stardust**_

"It's just a bit of stardust," Laurel said dismissively, letting the embroidered handkerchief fall open in her hand. He had crossed into the unknown for a chance of making her his, he'd been a foolish boy in love with the idea of love and not the person Laurel truly was, but on his adventure he'd learned the difference. He knew now what love was and as he watched the glittery black and silver dust waft out of where once glowing, luminous golden hair had safely been ensconced Oliver's heart clenched. Felicity, his beautiful stubborn fallen star, would not survive on this side of the wall. If he had brought her here as promised, as he'd kept insisting until he learned what true love was – with her – she would have disintegrated before his very eyes. The mere possibility of a world, _his world_ , without Felicity in it left him cold.

He turned without another word to Laurel or Sebastian, her newly minted husband-to-be, and raced back towards the barrier that separated his nothing little town from the magical realm of Stormhold. He had to make certain that Felicity never crossed the wall, that she stayed the warm, intelligent woman he'd come to love and not turn into a lifeless piece of space rock that the museums of his world so liked to put on display.

* * *

He reached the wall too late, Felicity hadn't traversed the magical barrier, he was saved from that nightmare but she had been captured Carrie, the witch who had been pursuing her for her heart. In wanting to live up to a promise he made to a woman who didn't matter, he'd broken one – to keep her safe – to the only woman who truly did. Oliver berated himself as he followed the tracks that would lead him to Felicity, so much for growing up his whirling thoughts scolded before skipping onto possible rescue strategies until they skittered off into a lament over lost time and foolhardy decisions. The progress he made on his trek seemed so distant and far away from him while his thoughts were horrifically present as he fought against worst case scenarios.

He kept telling himself that he would find Felicity. That she would be alive. That he would rescue her. The mantra kept him moving forward swiftly when his anxious heart would have petrified him on the spot.

He came upon the witches castle – embedded in a craggy, steep mountain side – far sooner than anticipated and with it Prince Malcolm, another villain who'd been after cutting out Felicity's heart, outside of it. The view through a clouded, low window allowed Oliver to ascertain that Felicity was alive, though not for long based on the three witches hovering around her with black blades, so he agreed to work with Malcolm, sensing that having an ally would give him the best chance of saving her.

That was all the matter to Oliver, Felicity's well-being, he had to ensure it.

He had briefly and half-heartedly observed the reunion between Malcolm and witches' slave girl, his long-lost sister Moira, but his eyes and attention had been on Felicity. She looked so dull, her inner glow all but absent and it tore at his heart to see her like that … so small, so dim, so _un_ -Felicity. He'd been unable to help himself and called out her name, alerting the witches to their presence, but her color began to return as she happily cried out, "Oliver!" and instead of waiting for the inevitable tied down and defeated, Felicity began to her struggle for her freedom.

Her renewed vigor inspired his own emotions and actions as he attempted to rescue her, allowing him to aid Malcolm in the death of one of the three witches before Moira pulled him back from the battle. Her actions confused him, but it had been fortuitous timing as the battle turned and huddled together they beheld Malcolm being slain by the other surviving witch while Carrie lorded above all of them, watchful.

After a brief scuffle with the victorious witch, one that he was dangerously close to being on the losing side of multiple times, Oliver managed to release the menagerie of creatures that the witches had imprisoned and the animals took care of defeating the hag who'd bested Malcolm for him. Leaving only Carrie to contend with, but she was trickier than her companions and re-animated Malcolm's corpse, forcing him to fight it.

With a bevy of movement and the clash and clang of swords the damage he did to the corpse made no impact. It just kept coming. Relentless, until he finally managed to pin it underneath one of the castle's heavy iron chandeliers. Freed from combat Oliver was at last able to sprint up the steps to the platform that held the altar to which Felicity was strapped as Carrie raised her obsidian blade. He was closing in fast when the blade swished down.

Oliver cried out with Felicity at the same moment, his eyes wide with terror thinking that this was it – he'd lost her – as he finally made it up to the landing. He was poised to attack but the band holding Felicity to the table slipped from her, allowing her the liberty to move. She popped up and into his arms, which roped around her without any thought. He needed to feel to her against him, her heart pounding as wildly his, proving that they were both still alive.

They had been declared free and he sped them down the steps, hands clasped, towards Moira with the aim of getting them far, far away from this dreaded castle and perhaps back on Diggle's pirate ship where they could spend their days in the company of friends as they adventured together. It was the together part that mattered most to Oliver. He'd go anywhere as long as Felicity could be at his side.

He should have known that it was a trick, that Carrie had no intention of letting them escape. She had only used the possibility, the hope, to ensure that Felicity's heart was bright and whole, and so much stronger than the pale little object she would have sliced out before he arrived. They were trapped now, very nearly frozen in place, but they were together and really any place where he was with Felicity was the only place he wanted to be. No matter the circumstances.

Oliver gazed down at her, content with her face being the last thing he'd ever see, when she softly asked him, "What do stars do?" He couldn't stop the huff of laughter that escaped him. His eyes burned with all the emotions she ever invoked within him as remembered how she glowed on the deck of Diggle's ship and how her light got brighter when it was in his arms that she danced; and how radiant she'd been during their night together as they slowly learned each other's bodies and what brought them the most pleasure at inn.

He knew he was grinning at her, undoubtedly moon-eyed as the threat of Carrie loomed over them, but Oliver couldn't tear his eyes away from her shimmering face and her beauty that had everything to do with _who_ she was and not _what_ she was.

He managed to lift his hand and cup her cheek; he trailed his thumb gently over it and that endearment only served to enhance her glow. "Shine," he breathed out just loud enough for her ears.

Felicity leaned into him then and he followed suit, shutting his eyes and burying his face in the crook of her neck as he felt her fingers clutching his back so tight it was almost painful. Around them the whole room filled with the brightest, most vibrant light that was sparked within Felicity by their love for one and other.

Oliver could have stood, wrapped in each other, happily for the rest of his days, but once her luminescence settled down Felicity pulled back from him. Lifting his head revealed the fact that Carrie had been destroyed, that Felicity had saved them. As if reading his thoughts, she told him, "I couldn't have done it without you Oliver. No star can shine with a broken heart."

Again he smiled at her, feeling completely lost and found in the love he felt for her. "You have mine," he promised capturing her lips with his own.


	3. Total Recall

_**Total Recall**_

He was on the surface of Mars. Exposed to the brutal atmosphere without any protection and yet he was still breathing. Oxygen, thin but pure was being pulled into his lungs with each ragged breath. It was hard to take in … hard to believe.

So much of his life the past few days had felt like a nightmare – from Laurel not being his wife (it was still odd to think that he'd never been married to the tart brunette) to his trip to Rekall which had screwed with the programming he'd already gone under – willingly if Al Sah-him was to be trusted. How odd was it that he didn't trust himself Oliver wondered.

Of course Al Sah-him had just been a face on a screen. Granted it had been _his_ face, but Oliver had no recollection of being that calculating, ruthless individual. Except for Felicity.

He had remembered bits and pieces of the woman who had drawn him like a siren's song to Mars. What both his selves felt for her, and Al Sah-him must have been capable of some emotion otherwise Oliver could not have taken one look at her and known that she was it – what had been driving his discontent, sparking the knowledge that something in his life was wrong. Felicity had burned through the programming Slade Wilson had subjected him to, fragmented pieces of her stubbornly hidden his mind, a witty golden fantasy that he had dreamed about so often that he had to get his hands on her any way he could. Hence why he'd gone to Rekall in the first place looking for a way to escape a life that had just not felt right; like an overly starched shirt collar chafing against his neck, an irritation that needed solved.

As the atmosphere solidified and the oxygenated air became richer the residents and visitors to the domed habitats of Mars ventured out onto the planet's surface. They stood side-by-side, mutated human and pure-blood alike, taking in the extraordinary sight. The resistance leader, the kind and mutated Diggle, had been correct about the Martian reactor. Turning it on had not doomed the red planet, but saved its colony from the authoritarian grip of his supposed friend, eliminating Slade's ability to control access to the world's oxygen supply.

It was almost a shame that Slade hadn't lived to see it, that the oxygen rich air hadn't formed quickly enough to save him. It was the explosion Slade had set off in an attempt to destroy the ancient rector that had allowed him to be sucked out into the inhospitable environment and Oliver could find no sympathy for him. Not for the monster that was responsible for Diggle's death, who'd left an entire quadrant to die by asphyxiation, who'd been ready to return Al Sah-him to his body and erase what made Felicity the extraordinary woman he loved.

Oliver curled a hand around hers, his gaze sweeping the area, taking in all that they had accomplished and he felt a pricking of fear course up his spine. He'd asked for an adventure implant at Rekall, one filled with intrigue and danger, not to mention a feisty whip-smart blonde bombshell. What if all of this … if Felicity was just that? A false memory he would awake from?

He couldn't stand the thought of it and as if sensing his turmoil Oliver felt Felicity's free hand run up his arm, her warm fingers paraded over his neck and her paint-chipped nails scratched at his stubble as she drew his face down, forcing his eyes to her own magnificent jeweled gaze. "Trust me," she panted, her lungs like his, still adjusting to breathing in fresh Martian air. "This _not_ a dream, Oliver." To highlight her point she dragged his face down to her own as she strained on her toes to meet his mouth.

Her lips on his, her chest crushed against his own, the shared breath between them as they kissed sloppily. That was real.

 _They were real_.

He was Oliver Queen and with Felicity Smoak at his side they had saved the population of Mars from the tyranny of Slade Wilson, fulfilling Diggle's prophesy and the hopes of the indigenous species that had not lived to see their work realized.

Mars was truly inhabitable now and together with the remaining resistance they would fight to make it a world open and fair to all.


	4. Lion King

_**Lion King**_

He'd been fifteen, no longer a child but not yet a man, when his life shifted dramatically. He'd gone from beloved son being groomed to oversee the vast business empire that his parents had built together to a scarred and scared runaway desperate to escape his past and the memory of his father's death ... a death he was responsible for, so he fled from all he'd known and held dear, leaving everyone to believe – save for his uncle Malcolm – that he had died alongside his father.

Oliver had bummed his way hundreds of miles down the Californian coast, closing in on the Mexican border, before he found – or rather it found him – a little slice of perfection in which to hide. A place where no one knew he was a Queen and he was just Oliver a somewhat laid-back worker at the Hakuna Matata Mini Golf Course & Tiki Lounge.

His sixteenth birthday had just blazed by in a wave of exhaustion has he reached Coast City when he'd be found under a beach pier by fellow absconders Tommy Merlyn and Roy Harper, the dynamic surf duo as they jokingly referred to themselves that bright and humid afternoon. The twosome had been taken in by the owner of Hakuna Matata – "It means no worries," Roy explained, "never say that Dig doesn't have a sense of humor on occasion," – John Diggle a year before. He made them attend school ("As long as we maintain a C-average he doesn't get on our case," Tommy confided) and help out after school with the mini-golf course, but allowed them the freedom to come and go as they pleased – as long as it was within reason – and be "semi-well-behaved miscreants" – a Diggle term of endearment Oliver would come to know well in the years following Tommy and Roy dragging him home with them.

The expectations of John Diggle felt like child's play compared to the life that had been intended for him and Oliver found himself falling in line easily. Attending school and applying himself to his studies because he could hear words of his best friend echoing his mind and though the thought her made him ache, recalling her belief in him – how it had inspired him to push and meet the expectations placed upon him – also felt good. It was the only piece of his past that did and Oliver clung to it when the weight of everything he left behind overwhelmed him.

Over the years he managed to cast much of it aside … or at least pretend to and after graduation he felt no desire to reach for a life beyond the easy existence he'd settled into at Hakuna Matata. The summer following the momentous occasion of his graduation he, Tommy and Roy built their own little home on a tract Diggle set-aside for them. Once work had been completed his life descended into days that began with surfing with his friends, afternoons either spent in a hammock or working the course, and nights either behind the lounge bar or drinking on a stool – once he was of legal age – and flirting shamelessly with female patrons. Many a night he ended up going home with an attractive a woman, but it was always just for an evening of meaningless pleasure. Oliver wanted no ties beyond Hakuna Matata, he had lost too much already, and he would not risk the safe haven he had found.

Diggle had attempted to motivate them all to try for something more, giving sage words of wisdom about not finding their own dreams without searching for it themselves, but there was no life outside of Hakuna Matata for the man he'd become. If he left he'd have to be Oliver Queen again. A useless, disappointment responsible for the death of his own father.

As for dreams Oliver had only one but it did not involve doing things or being something, rather he dreamed of people – two specific someones he'd left behind and never expected to see again. Which explained why he'd froze at the sound of her voice as he carried in a few cases of beer to restock the bar, his mind not able to comprehend that his old life had found a way to intercede on his new one.

She had always managed to standout somehow to Oliver, but seeing her under the twinkling lights of tiki-themed bar in a professional cut and fitted plum dress and sky-high heels Felicity Smoak had never looked so out of place. And he'd been in her mother's colorful home which could rival the décor of the Hakuna Matata. Her once wavy brown hair was golden and smooth straight in high ponytail, which slicked down her neck in an alluring fashion. The industrial piercing, an arrow he noticed, Donna had allowed her to get on the last birthday he'd spent with her was the only rebellious touch to her polished look.

He was so lost in looking at her, observing all the changes and similarities to the girl he'd once known, that the words she was exchanging with Tommy and Roy were unable to penetrate his mind. It was the weight of the load in his arms, making his muscles burn, and the need to relieve them of their burden that finally got Oliver to move. His presence drew a startled gasp from Felicity, dead stopping the heated exchange she'd been having with his friends.

As Oliver eased the beer onto the bar his cobalt eyes never left Felicity's face, their gazes locked and held, stirring his blood to pump as emotions swelled and warred within him. He couldn't stop soaking in her, he was terrified that if he looked away – even to blink – that she wouldn't be there when he looked back. From the periphery of his vision he could see Tommy and Roy having a silent exchange with exaggerated faces and hand gestures while he and Felicity continued to stare at each other in wonder.

Eons later it seemed, though in actuality probably not more than a minute, Felicity breathed out his name reverently, "Oliver?" It was a question he knew. Oliver could tell that she was having trouble accepting that he was standing before her.

" _Fe-lic-i-ty_ ," he returned his name with hers, drawing it out has he always had. His voice was low and warm, its tone expressing how her name was his favorite thing to say and it had been too long since he got to utter it. Her whole face softened at the sound, her boldly stained lips spreading in wide joyous smile. Oliver felt his own mouth curling up in response. He couldn't not beam happily at her, his cherished old friend.

His palms itched to reach out and touch her. Oliver was tempted, oh so tempted, to leap over the bar and engulf her into his arms. And once she was there, solid and real against him, never let go.

Tommy broke the moment, waving his hand in front of his face, "Let me get this straight. You know her," he said hooking his thumb in Felicity's direction and Oliver watched, his stomach knotting, as the delight began to slip from her face. With a hard poke to his shoulder Tommy continued, "She knows you. But she wants to swallow up Hakuna Matata," his friend's usually jovial tone had gone hard with that statement forcing him to blink as his brain finally computed the discussion he'd walked in.

"And everybody's okay with this?" Tommy asked incredulous. His grey eyes fell on Roy, "Did I miss something?"

"No, that pretty much sums it up," Roy answered his eyes narrowed and shoulders tense under his trademark red hoodie.

He'd known about the offer from Unidac Industries for the land that Hakuna Matata sat on. They all did, Diggle hadn't kept the offer from them or his intention not to sell. The offers kept coming and Diggle kept saying no. Oliver figured that an in-person sales pitch was coming. That was how his father usually got holdouts to cave. What he never could have anticipated was that it would be Felicity – _his Felicity_ – making the pitch.

"Guys, could you give us a minute?" His voice had come out shaky and rough, surprising him. Tommy and Roy merely crossed their arms over their chests, refusing to budge. Oliver sighed and shot them each a quick, murderous glare before asking, "Felicity would you mind taking a walk with me?"

She had pulled into herself and Oliver hated seeing her look that small and closed off. She was meant to be luminous and babbling. Felicity chewed on her lower lip, her head tilted slightly while she contemplated his request. He waited heart pounding erratically in his chest, afraid of her answer whatever it may be, before she finally nodded and replied with a barely audible, "Yes."

He walked out from behind the bar, pointedly ignoring Tommy and Roy, and crossed over to her. His hand reached out to touch her back but he paused inches from the soft material that covered her. Oliver could feel her warmth but also the tension that radiated off of the line of her back. Instead of touching her like he desperately wanted, he clenched his hand, rubbing his thumb over his index and middle finger as he angled them towards the door. He fell in step behind Felicity as they exited lounge.

The sunlight felt too bright against his eyes as they stepped out into what had become his domain. He could hear sounds of laughter from a the few patrons who dotted the mini-golf course so he steered Felicity down towards the home he'd built with his own hands searching for the words that would return their reunion to the blissful occasion it had been when they'd been lost in each other eyes.

Felicity had always brought him nothing but happiness and Oliver couldn't stand the idea of ever making her as sad as she appeared now. He ignored the voice in his head that he had done just that when he ran from home so many years ago, letting everyone believe that he like his father had perished, and tumbled awkwardly into the most important conversation of his life.


	5. Ladyhawke

_Ladyhawke_

Ethereal. It was the first word that had washed over his frightened mind when Roy first laid eyes on the unexpected woman. Her fathomless, crystal blue eyes had been luminous and her pale porcelain skin flawless, haloed by golden hair she had seemed a dream to his frantic mind. And that was before she'd approached the hulking black wolf that had chased him through the forest and ripped out the throat of the farmer who'd been intent on clubbing his head in.

His life since escaping the dank dungeons of Starling could only be described as fantastical. That he managed to crawl through the tight spaces underneath the stone floor and traverse the sewers to find his freedom was miraculous. That he should stumble upon Oliver Queen, the disgraced captain of the guard of Starling, and be saved from returning to his prison was astounding. To find himself embroiled in a quest to end a curse … there was no word to aptly describe it.

He was thief. A morally ambiguous one at that who had made many a promise to God to change his ways should only things work out in his favor and even when they had, he had not changed. As he made his way through the maze of sewers Roy had vowed never to steal again and the first thing he'd done was nick a knife and bag of coins from solider, followed by chasing off a shepherd's flock so that he was able to steal fresh clothes. His concession after making off with the coins, "I know I promised, Lord, never again. But I also know that you know what a weak-willed person I am."

That was who he was and the only reason Oliver had needed to save him was because he'd been boastful, wanting to drink to his own escape – an unheard of feat – from Starling's dungeons. He had even tricked Felicity. Beautiful, kind Felicity who had captured a piece of his soul the moment her eyes had met his, shushing his panic away. Oliver had been set on his course of returning to Starling and confronting Bishop Merlyn and Roy had wanted nothing to do it with it. Death was preferable and assured if he went back to Starling and he'd rather go on his own terms and not at Bishop's new Captain's, Sebastian Blood, noose. His own self-interest had caused the hawk – _Felicity_ to be injured.

Hawk by day, lady by night and undeserving of curse placed upon her. Her crime was one of love, of loving Oliver and the Guard Captain loving her in return and not Bishop Merlyn as the old monk confided as they sat worrying over the injured lady. The cry of Felicity's wolf, of Oliver, could be heard throughout the night.

Man by day, wolf by night Oliver and Felicity were always together, but eternally apart. Very little had moved him in his life, but the cycle Oliver and Felicity were trapped in touched his heart. Or maybe they had, because for the first time in his life Roy felt like he had friends. He **had** to help them, even if meant convincing a hard-headed Oliver that Lance – the man who'd drunkenly and mistakenly betrayed them to Merlyn – had indeed found a way to break the curse.

Of course the two of them facing Merlyn in human form on a day without a night and night without a day seemed utterly impossible, but so had his escape from dungeons. It was not mere coincidence that Oliver had traveled back towards Starling and heard the bells toll out his exodus. Even Felicity getting injured seemed fated somehow because it led them back to Lance and his knowledge of how to end the curse. A grand plan larger than himself, that he was meant to be a part of, was unfolding and Roy truly believed that were meant to succeed and when they did Oliver and Felicity would be reunited, never to be parted again.

It had to be, he thought, because witnessing the great sorrow of Oliver and Felicity reaching for each other in the split second of early dawn light as he transformed from wolf to man and she faded from lady to hawk was too much for him to bear. That they'd spent years, _years_ , only having that one heartbreaking moment between them was too cruel a fate for God to allow stand.

By hook or crook, they would defeat the Bishop and he would see the couple embrace each other once again as they were meant to – Roy made this silent vow to himself and it was one intended not to break.


	6. Knight & Day

_Knight & Day_

His head was on swivel, all his senses heightened and highly trained muscles tight with anticipation as he surveyed their surroundings looking for additional guards as he steered them towards freedom. The guilt he felt for dragging Felicity into his spy drama – there was no way the likes of Malcolm Merlyn, international arms dealer, would have ever crossed paths with her if not for him – was barely drowned out by the gratitude he felt for her presence amid the madness.

Spotting her in the airport, selecting her to be a distraction for Wilson, had been the smartest decision he'd ever made. Oliver couldn't pinpoint exactly why it _had_ to be the golden haired, bespectacled beauty dressed in bold colors and panda flats – there had just been something about her. For the first time in years when he encountered another human being he hadn't immediately performed a threat assessment, instead he'd seen her as a person; a very attractive eyeful of a person. If he hadn't been making a run from a corrupt agent with the zephyr in hand and Barry's life in the balance Oliver would have wanted to meet her all the same. And as it turned out, Felicity with her quick mind and adaptable nature, once she got her initial babble of denial out, had adjusted to the craziness of situation like a champ.

She'd slotted into his life, challenging him at every turn, like a missing piece. If he wanted to be sappy about it, he would say that Felicity completed him. Oliver knew it was dangerous to think that about her, to allow himself to feel the things he did for her … to want her and want more with her. As an ARGUS agent his life was not his own. Hell even the name he'd given her was not the one he had been born with, Oliver Queen was merely the man he'd become thanks to his time in service to a super-secret government agency.

His gaze had just left her to perform another sweep of the idyllic Spanish courtyard when Felicity informed him, "I think I feel like having sex." Oliver felt himself freeze. She had been starring in his own inappropriate thoughts and he'd hoped based on some of the looks he had received that Felicity might just be interested in him. After all she had flirted with him on the plane before her trip to the bathroom allowed him to execute every other person aboard. When he found her again in Boston she hadn't been able to get away from him fast enough. Granted he had killed a bunch of people and drugged her so he hadn't faulted her for following a perfectly reasonable instinct even if her life expectancy went down if not in his care, but he could have sworn she was softening towards him during their global exploits.

There was short, breathy pause as he turned back towards her before she continued, "I think we'd have really great sex."

Oliver could feel his brows arch as he titled his head down slightly to look at Felicity over the top of the sunglasses he was wearing. Her face was scrunched up in the most adorable fashion as she pondered the two of them together. He had absolutely no doubt that they'd have an incredibly good time naked together. When he had a spare moment he kept picturing it in technicolor thanks to having already seen her curvy, tone body sans clothing. He would never apologize for sneaking a peek when he slipped her into the red (which was so her color, his favorite on her in fact, even if the white blouse she was currently sporting made her skin glow with the recent color she picked up during their escapades) string bikini. He considered the glimpse he got fair trade for the island retreat she accidentally burned. "Did they give you something?"

"Truth serum," she shared with an affirmative nod. The jolting movement made her precariously held together ponytail slip precariously low. Oliver's fingers itched to tug the band loose so he could feel the weight of her curling locks in his hands. It would be so easy to take advantage of the moment. To step into Felicity's personal space and press his body into hers like he'd thought about much too often over the short time he'd known her. He could picture capturing her lips and could actually imagine the sound of her breath catching as he was certain she would exhale as he brought their bodies together. Oliver knew he would not waste a second; he'd dive straight in and get lost in her … in them.

He wanted it so much that he took a single step towards Felicity; his focus was not on the all the potential hazards that encased them, but was zeroed in on her. The rise and fall of her chest, the way her lips parted slightly at his movement and the way her eyes blew even wider, going lavender.

He was so wrapped up in her that Oliver would have missed the danger if Felicity hadn't stiffened. Her reaction allowed him just enough time to turn and fire on the approaching guards, blowing their quiet escape attempt. He could feel Merlyn's lackeys edging in on them and keeping further harm from coming to Felicity became his only concern. Once she was safe he could recalibrate and return to his mission: find the zephyr and safeguard Barry.

Oliver reached behind with his unarmed hand to cart Felicity against his back, effectively turning himself into a shield to protect her from the forthcoming fire they were bound to face. He barked the order, "Move with me." He felt her small hands dig into his shoulders as she followed his instructions, moving in tandem with him, perfectly in sync.

He cut off the thought of that, the knowledge and what it did to him. The man so easily distracted by Felicity Smoak would only get her killed; right now, he had to be the lethal weapon. That was the only thing that would keep her alive and Oliver needed that more than anything else he had in his entire life, so he became the weapon.


End file.
